Page 49 of Play of Shadows

‘Why are you doing this to me?’ I asked. ‘I never—’

She cut me off, sharp as a knife, although her tone was as pleasant and playful as ever. ‘Because your grandmother is already dead, Damelas Chademantaigne. I can hardly dig up the bitch’s corpse and kill her a second time. Your grandfather might have made a reasonable substitute, but when I tried to force him into a duel. . .’ She wagged a finger at me as if I were an errant schoolboy. ‘Well, you know what you did.’

‘He’s an old man!’ I cried out. ‘His hand shakes– he’s no match for you. Why torment him when you know he can’t beat you?’

She gave no reply, just favoured me with that fox’s smile of hers.

I couldn’t seem to find my footing. My entire body was trembling, waging a war between terror and outrage, between tears and—

Laughter.

Cold, calculated laughter.

The horror grew as I realised the chilling mirth was coming from my own mouth.

‘Come then, my quarrelsome little pup,’ I heard myself say.My arms spread of their own accord, opening wide, a lover beckoning the object of his desire. ‘Pierce my heart with love’s arrow, my Lady Fox, but thrust deeply, mind. Let you not stop until your guard shatters against my breast and our lips meet for a final farewell.’

What in the seven Hells is happening to me?I wondered helplessly.There’s no stage here, no script for me to recite– why am I talking like this?

Lady Ferica stared at me, bewilderment on her face. ‘Do you perform a play for me now, Rabbit?’

An excellent question, I thought, but that mad impulse driving me kept goading her further.

‘A rabbit, my dearest? Is that all I am to you?’ My hands came up on either side of my head, fore and middle fingers bending like long, floppy ears. I stuck my front teeth out. ‘Perhaps I am indeed a rabbit, my love, and we all know that ninety-nine times out of a hundred it’s the fox who feasts upon the poor beast’s flesh.’ My arms dropped to my sides and I felt my fingers twitching, aching to pursue a course of action that would surely bring about my end. ‘But the more enticing story is that rarest of tales – that one in a hundred in which the rabbit eats the fox, wouldn’t you agree?’

Derision was in her gaze, but I noticed those broad shoulders were no longer quite so loose, her steps not so smooth as they had been when this game began. ‘If you’re hoping these bizarre theatrics are going to rattle me, Damelas, then I fear you’ve overestimated your abilities as an actor. Look at you– you’re not even wearing a blade!’

‘Why should I need one, my dearest? Yours looks sharp enough for my needs.’

She gave a stamp of her foot– a fencer’s feint to throw me off– and my instinctual fear took hold again. A bead of sweat dripped down my brow. My mouth tasted copper. My heart was beatingfar too fast to keep up this inexplicable pretence that had taken hold of me. And yet, instead of trying to run, my left leg reached back as I bent at the waist and extended my right hand towards her, just as a courtier might while inviting her to dance. . . or a duellist offering her a quick death.

‘To me, my midnight delight,’ I heard myself say as calmly and confidently as if the Vixen and I were old bedmates, ‘past time we shared that dance.’

Lady Ferica di Traizo took a half step back, just out of reach of my hand. ‘You’re bluffing,’ she said warily.

Of course I’m bluffing, you idiot. Why in the name of Saint Gan-who-laughs-with-dice am I bluffing? Because I’m exhausted and confused, and a few hours ago I played the Archduke on stage and my head’s still full of Corbier’s arrogant bluster. Only problem is, he was a veteran of nearly a hundred duels and I’ve never won so much as a fistfight since I was ten.

‘Would I dare dissemble before you, Lady Fox?’ I asked. ‘A question for the ages, one pondered by men and women better trained and better armed than yourself. Though should you wish to divine how it was I so easily turned their fine blades against them, well. . .’ Still bent at the waist, I curled a finger and invited her closer. ‘I would be happy to arrange for you to ask them directly.’

For a long while she watched me, neither her eyes nor her hands moving even a hair. A lifetime of training and instinct was being confounded by my baffling performance. At last her smile returned, though the line of her mouth was stiff now, a red slash painted on an ivory mask. ‘So I was right all along. Youhavebeen training! Studying ruses and tactics, I imagine? A year wouldn’t be enough to ready you to challenge me on skill alone, so instead you’ve been practising your disarms and deceptions, plotting distractions and sudden attacks? Not a bad strategy for someone in your position. Even the greatest duellist can fall preyto a beginner’s trick if she isn’t ready for it.’

Lady Ferica di Traizo backed away and gave a quick salute of her blade. ‘When next we meet by midnight, my rabbit.’

I smiled at that, knowing the use of the old duelling expression made the strange, reckless spirit inside me like her better. I gave her a fencer’s bow, low, but never taking my eyes off hers. ‘Until that hour, may you know no harm, my Lady Fox.’

Her elegant, sinuous silhouette disappeared from the alley, leaving me alone and wondering what madness had overtaken me. My shirt was soaked in sweat, my hands shaking and heart thumping, and all the while I struggled to catch my breath, for I couldn’t seem to stop laughing.

Chapter 23

Laughter

‘You saidwhat?’ Beretto guffawed heartily, slapping a hand against his own chest as if he were in the midst of a heart attack. ‘Tell it again, brother! Of such fine music my ears have too long been denied!’

‘I told you, I asked Rhyleis why she was push—’

‘No, no,’ he sputtered, spilling wine down his beard, ‘the part where you said to the Vixen– theVixen, Damelas– “What blade should I require, my love, but the one in your hand that so longs to rest in mine?”’

‘That’s not even how I said it!’

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